


and i will stumble and fall

by adelaidebabe (soulless_slut)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Based on a Tumblr Post, M/M, Pre-Slash, Stiles has a bad day, i said i would never write pre-slash and yet here i am, just a tiny bit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-09
Updated: 2014-02-09
Packaged: 2018-01-11 17:40:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1175976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soulless_slut/pseuds/adelaidebabe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><a href="http://aflowerinadversity.tumblr.com/">aflowerinadversity</a> said: I need a fic where Stiles is having a bad day so he pulls out his secret bottle of his mother’s favourite perfume and sprays it around and lays down on his bed and just breathes and Derek comes in through the window like werewolfy business and stops in his tracks and Stiles is like what do you even want and Derek is quiet for a really long time and finally just says his mother wore this perfume and Stiles doesn’t know what to say so he just shuffles over on his bed and lets Derek decide if he wants to stay.</p>
            </blockquote>





	and i will stumble and fall

**Author's Note:**

> Okay! So, I tried? Dearie, when/if you see this, I hope it's at least kind of what you were looking for.<3
> 
> I wrote this in about two hours I think? And I didn't read through it, so sorry about any and all mistakes. I have a [tumblr](http://adelaidebabe.tumblr.com/) that you can come talk to me on!
> 
> Title is from Say Something by A Great Big World, which I was listening to on repeat and I don't know why.
> 
> Also season 3B has not happened at all because I want them to be happy; therefore, no nemeton funny business. Happy, happy, happy. (◡‿◡)

The week had been going so good, considering. Stiles didn't know what happened. Sure, there were minor supernatural occurrences that needed to be attended to and taken care of, but that had all been _fine_. Simple, even. For some reason, though, as soon as he woke up, Stiles knew it wasn't going to be a good day.

And so, of course, it wasn't.

His Jeep, his _baby_ , ended up breaking down on his way to school— _“No. No, no, no, no, baby, c'mon, we're so close. I promise, I swear, I will get you checked up as soon as school's over, but I need you to get me there.”_ —and Scott's phone went straight to voicemail. He thought about calling his dad, but he'd worked the night shift; he was getting home as Stiles was pulling out of the driveway. He didn't want to wake his dad up. He thought about calling Lydia, Allison or Isaac—hell, even _Derek_ —but just couldn't make himself do it. So he resigned himself to leaving his baby on the side of the road as he walked the rest of the way to the school.

Which he was then rewarded with a detention for being tardy. Already a _great_ day.

Then, of course because the day just kept getting better, in his first class, he realized he left half of his homework at home. Not all of it; he had his history essay and the math equations Lydia had helped him with, but his chemistry homework was missing along with his English essay.

And all of his lacrosse gear was still in his Jeep. That was stranded on the side of the road. Just begging to be towed and locked away, payed for with the money Stiles didn't have.

At lunch, Stiles realized he also conveniently forgot his money. Thankfully, though, Scott was his bro, his savior; the heavens cast a light to shine down on Scott McCall— _“I get it, Stiles, seriously.”_ —his _bro_ who gave him money so he could eat, so he wouldn't starve. And if his thoughts were a little melodramatic, well, they were his thoughts.

Of course, though, once he had his tray in hand and was making his way back to Scott, Stiles tripped on air, falling face first on the linoleum. He heard, rather than saw, his food hit the floor and he closed his eyes briefly, wondering—again—what the hell he did for today to happen.

Isaac and Scott both shared their lunches with him, though, because he has awesome friends. Allison even told him that she'd give him a ride home. Because he has really. Freaking. Awesome. Friends.

He was able to call for a tow before lunch period ended. And he may or may not had it sent to the garage he knew Derek worked at. And then explicitly requested Derek. Because Derek might have had an attitude adjustment that made him more, quote, pleasant, but Stiles was still an asshole when he wanted to be. (Or might have been something to do with how he wasn't willing to trust any ol' mechanic except for Derek, but that was a secret best kept buried.)

The rest of his classes went through without a hitch, with the except of chemistry naturally, and Stiles served his time in detention staring at the clock, wondering if Derek would actually work on his Jeep. He could always pass the job off to someone else. Or maybe the dude wasn't even working. He wondered what Derek did on his days off, if he called Cora to check up on her or had a sass-off with Peter. Maybe he just brooded, staring out a window being pensive.

Stiles wouldn't put it past him.

Still staring at the clock, Stiles tried to stop thinking of Derek so much; it was bordering on creeper level, and only Derek belonged there. To be fair, his _thing_ , so to speak, wasn't anything new. He knew who Derek was when he was younger and of course he remembered Derek when he first came back to Beacon Hills. But now things had finally seemed to calm down on the supernatural front, giving Stiles plenty of time to fully analyze the way he seemed to go from one unattainable crush to the next. Which meant that he obviously didn't do that. He was more of _let things live_ kind of guy.

When Stiles was finally released from detention, his first move was to apparently trip over his own foot and slam his chin onto the table top. He felt his eyes beginning to water, and was just completely done with this day. Allison was going to drive him home and then he was going to bed. Straight to bed. Because the day needed to be over with.

He brushed off the teacher's concern with false bravado, trying to subtly wipe at his eyes before anyone saw him.

Stiles was exhausted. Nothing, _nothing_ about this entire day had gone right, and he really just wanted to curl up on his bed. Maybe cry a little. He was allowed to do that. He was allowed to cry when things got difficult because, Goddammit, he was firmly in touch with his manliness and men cry sometimes.

Allison was already in her car messing with the radio when Stiles opened the passenger door. He thanked her, repeatedly, talking about how he was planning on writing her endless amounts of poetry about her heart of gold while she laughed at his antics. She assured him that his endless devotion was not necessary, but appreciated. Stiles grinned back. He was glad that, even if they hadn't worked out (yet), Scott and Allison had gotten together to begin with. Because she was a pretty good friend, and friends used to be something he had a shortage of.

He thanked her again when they arrived at his house, waving from the doorway before he sprinted up to his room, his vision already blurring. He threw himself on his bed and gripped his pillow.

Days that fucked him over were difficult for Stiles to deal with. He wasn't expecting everyday to be a picnic, yeah, but he didn't understand why some days felt like complete karmic payback for all the shit he ever did. He remembered feeling like this everyday after his mom died, unable to breathe, barely able to function through normal tasks. That was probably why Stiles hated karmic payback days—because they reminded him of being a kid again, the loss of his mother still a fresh wound.

Stiles breathed in a few shuddering breaths before getting up and going over to his closet. He dug to the bottom where he had his secret compartment that held some his mom's things. He grabbed the familiar perfume bottle, one he had bought himself because his mom's eventually had run out, and sprayed it around his room just a bit. He put the bottle back and then dived back into his bed, breathing in deeply, the scent comforting him almost as much as his mother would have. He cried; not loud, heaving sobs, but more of his eyes watering and the tears overflowing to land on his pillow. He closed his eyes and breathed in deeply again, forcing his body to relax. His plan was to fall asleep, and then when he woke up, it would be the next day. A new day. A better day.

Just a he was drifting off, he heard his window slide open. Stiles tensed, knowing it had to be Derek. Without opening his eyes, Stiles asked, “What do you even want?”

He didn't get a reply, not that that was surprising. What was surprising was that he was greeted with complete silence; Derek wasn't even moving. Stiles shifted and turned his body to face the 'wolf who seemed frozen where he was standing, his eyes staring at one of Stiles' walls. Derek's eyebrows were still furrowed, so Stiles didn't think he was broken, exactly.

Stiles sat up, keeping his pillow hugged to his chest. “Hey, Derek?” He snapped his fingers. “Derek. Hey.”

Derek slightly shook his head, finally looking at Stiles who looked at him questioningly. Derek sighed, his eyes going heavenward. “The perfume. It's, uh, it was my mom's favorite. She wouldn't wear it, but she liked it.”

Stiles nodded, hiding the fact that he was just a bit shocked—okay, a lot—that Derek shared that with him. Willingly. He tossed his pillow behind his head as he laid back down, scooting over more to the edge of his bed, trying to convey without saying anything that Derek was welcome to join him. He closed his eyes and hoped. Because if Derek joined him, he would feel like he was getting somewhere.

He felt the bed dip as Derek laid next to him and he tried to hide his grin. Gaining courage, Stiles reached over and grabbed Derek's hand loosely, giving the man the option to pull away. Instead, Derek tightened his hold.

So. Maybe it hadn't started off as the best day, but at least he'd gotten something out of it.


End file.
